Selfish Breathing
by Calamity Now
Summary: Dark almond eyes contrasted against sickly pale skin. Anemic blue lips pouted at the people passing by; she didn't notice me watching her. Fishnet stockings covered the expanse of her thighs as she leaned back against a wall.
1. Who Killed Bambi?

I've changed my mind about making this a romance. It's a story that's about living, and Duncan and Gwen are not in love. They may kiss, fuck, whatever in this story but they are merely doing it out of friendship -- the soul purpose for being alive. **It's NOT A ROMANCE**.

Anyways guys, I hope you enjoy this! Even though it's my birthday I'm giving you guys a gift! So why don'tcha review and show me how much you like the story as a gift to me? :D

Selfish Breathing

By: Calamity Now

* * *

_Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves_

_- Nelly, Wuthering Heights_

Dark almond eyes contrasted against sickly pale skin. Anemic blue lips pouted at the people passing by; she didn't notice me watching her. Fishnet stockings covered the expanse of her thighs as she leaned back against a wall, unlit cigarette hanging loosely from her lips.

"Got a light?" She called at me.

Without a word I reached into my pocket and walked across the courtyard, pulling my lighter out of my pocket and flicking it open. When I got near she leaned forward and stuck the tip of the cigarette into the flame and inhaled deeply. The tip glowed orange and reflected in her dark eyes.

"You know those things can kill you." I told her, and what I hypocrite I was as I lit up a smoke myself.

She shrugged her shoulders and blew smoke out in my direction. "Dying anyways." She said simply. It was the typical teenage response, exactly what I said -- like she took the words right out of my mouth.

"And besides, all the cool kids do it." I added him with a smirk, but she didn't smirk back, her eyes just stared at me like I was a moron; I definitely wasn't used to that. "What's your name anyways, babe? I see you around all the time."

"How about just because I borrow a light off you doesn't mean you deserve to know my name." She answered viciously and inhaled the smoke again to ease her nerves.

I was stumped yet again, who was this chick? And where the hell did she get off telling me to go fuck myself, though the real question was how the hell I could get a piece of her.

"How about you pull that stick out of your pleather-clad ass and try being civil?"

"It's real leather, actually," ahe said in a 'better-than-thou' voice and blew smoke rings into my face, "and why should I care about what some poser-punk-wannabe thought of me? You're not going to be speaking to me in a minute anyways."

"Oh really, and how could you be so sure of that."

She cocked her blue eyebrow at me and shook her head, mumbling something in some European language under her breath. After collecting her thoughts she looked back up at me and grabbed my ass and pulled herself close, mouth inches from mine.

"Because I'm going to walk away." She said in a husky voice and patted my cheek with a small cold hand. Slowly she let go of my ass and brushed past me, not bothering to glance over her shoulder for a second look.

Who the hell was that chick?

* * *

After making sure the stall was locked I dug through my backpack and searched for my little leather pouch containing my kit. After some digging I found it and placed the device that measures my glucose level onto the toilet tank and pricked my finger with the little needle. When I produced enough blood I smeared it onto the strip and stuck it into the device, 30 seconds later it showed me what I had been dreading. It was too low; I had to skip breakfast this morning since I was in a hurry.

"Whatever." I muttered under my breath, figuring I could make it the rest of the day.

Then I pushed out of the stall and kept my head down as I passed Queen Bee Heather and stupid subordinate Lindsay. They giggled about something as I passed by and after hearing the words 'Whore' and 'Goth' I knew that it had to be about me. Again, whatever.

The bell rang right as I got into the hall and I trudged to English, never before had I noticed that Punk Poser Wannabe was in my class. Him and his buddies sat in the back, all in their little corner of apparent coolness. Punk Poser Wannabe slowly noticed my arrival and a slow smile lit his face, eyebrow raising slightly, his eyebrow ring was infected. The hair in his goatee had crumbs in it, reminding me of the hunger that I was facing.

I took my usual spot in the opposite corner of the room, trying to ignore the stares I was getting from Wannabe Punk and his stupid stoner friends. I flipped open my notebook and started drawing a rabbit with a noose around it's skinny neck.

The teacher walked in shortly after and began droning on and on and on about Wuthering Heights -- usually I like English and I liked the book we were reading but I couldn't focus on anything he said really due to this pounding headache I was getting…

Slowly I raised my hand and Mr. Reid's eyes fell onto me, a smile gracing the corners of his lips -- reminding me of things that I really didn't want to think about "Can I go to the washroom?" I asked sweetly, even gracing him with a the prettiest smile I could manage.

"Of course you can, Gwen." He purred and I felt his eyes follow me out of the room.

The halls were empty thanks to there being all one lunch period, except for a few stragglers and bathroom break kids like me. I hardly paid any attention to them as I strode towards the doors that would lead to my freedom (and my cigarette).

* * *

After "Gwen" Left the classroom for a bathroom break I waited about five minutes before telling the teacher that I needed to piss and left the classroom with my bag and the teacher calling after me. I walked to the nearest set of doors where Gwen would undoubtedly be smoking a cigarette. I pushed through the double doors and waked outside into the fresh air expecting to see her with a cigarette at hand.

"Nope." I told myself as I met eyes with two other goth kids, one almost looked like Gwen but her skin was too dark and she didn't have that evil yet oh-so-sexy vibe that Gwen produced. Also, one of them was fat. Ewww.

"Do either of you know a Gwen?" I asked the two goth girls,

"Gwen?" The skinny one repeated dumbly

"Oh! You mean that bitch!" The fat one said with a triumphant smile, then both of them turned to one another and forgot about my entire existence as they chattered about her and her apparent bitchiness.

Neither of them seemed like very good Goths. I may not be the most hardcore punk, but at least I was better than these two posers.

"Look!" I cut in loudly, breaking them both out of their little bubbles of ignorance. "Do either of you know where she is? Because otherwise I really don't wanna be talking to either of you."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, as anger crossed both of their faces and they folded them arms over their chests and turned away from me, making that 'humph!' sound for good measure.

"Whatever." I said and brushed past them, "Later bitch. Later fatty." I called over my shoulder then took off before they got over the disbelief of what I had called them. They deserved it anyways, calling Gwen a bitch.

Despite not seeing Gwen my mood didn't damper, mostly because of the 7-Eleven that was just a five minute walk away from the school, and my bud Roman worked there at this time. Which meant I would be able to purchase cigarettes once more and knick anything not nailed down without being scolded.

As I got to the 7-Eleven a flash of blue and black caught the corner of my eye for a second, but when I turned to look there was nothing there, and I shrugged it off as nothing. Mostly because Roman saw me through the window and motioned me over quickly.

The door bell ling dings rang as I opened the door and Roman grinned widely at me as he motioned me to the counter, forcing me to lean over it before he would speak. "I got the big c man. Come over Friday, and for God's sake don't bring those pussy high schoolers again. You, me, Ryder, and Collin, and his bitch are having a little party of our own."

A smirk crossed my face as I gave Roman a high five, despite listening to him trash my closest friends I couldn't wait to see him again.

"Anyways. I need smokes." I told him, trying to regain my composure in spite of the giddiness that was growing in my stomach.

"Alright." He replied and grabbed Johnny Players Silver for me, like always. I handed him a twenty and he gave me back the change mindlessly, then nodded to me and said in his best accent, "Thank you, come again."

Causing me to chuckle the whole way out of the store.

My happiness and giddiness faded though as I was stopped from one thing.

"Mother fuck, Gwen." I hissed under my breath and kneeled down beside her on the ground. Without trying to be careful I grabbed her shoulders and half dragged her limp body into a sitting position against the bus stop and shook her shoulders. "Gwen! Can you hear me?" I yelled in her face and gave her body another yank.

When I got no response I moved two fingers and checked for a pulse then for breathing in case I'd have to give mouth to mouth.

"Goddamnit! Gwen, what the hell happened?!" I asked frantically as I ran my eyes over her body, searching for anything that might work, then I noticed the tags around her neck. After practically yanking them off to get a better look I discovered she was diabetic. "Okay…I saw this in The Panic Room. Your shit is low!" I yelled to myself and tore through her purse and found a pouch marked 'emergency'.

"The fuck are you doing?!" A girl yelled as she came running towards us, "Do you know how to inject that stuff?" She asked me in disbelief, and dumbly I shook my head. "Go call 9-1-1 then! Hurry!" She yelled at me.

Obeying her commands I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone, dialling the three numbers 9-1-1. The operator was infuriatingly calm as I told him what had happened, and after I gave him our location and Gwen's condition he told me an ambulance would be on it's way shortly.

* * *

Slowly I opened my eyes, and the first thing I saw was an EMT smiling down at me. She helped me sit up and informed me of all that had happened as far as her knowledge went then she gave me a juice box. After I was finished slurping down the fake orange juice I noticed him -- stupid punk poser wannabe kid sitting on a bench next to some lady and both were staring at me intensely.

"What the hell is he doing here?!" I couldn't help but ask as I pointed an accusing finger at that…creature.

"Duncan? That boy is a sweetheart. He's the one that found you and called 9-1-1. Without him you could've gone into a seizure." The EMT smiled at me and shrugged her shoulders when she saw my expression, which was probably horrified.

"Oh my god. How am I not dead?" I asked myself more than the EMT but she just smirked at me and gave me a reassuring pat on the back.

A minute later she moved over to Duncan and had a private word with him. Both of them were all smiles as they spoke quietly and planned something I had no doubt I would despise. Five minutes later Duncan was wearing a huge smirk and did his best to fake nonchalance as he strode over to me.

"How're you feeling Skeletor?" He asked.

"Fine." I answered curtly and tried to brush past him so I could get back to class, he surprised me by grabbing my wrist and yanking me back easily.

"Not so fast Skelly. I'm in charge of giving you a ride home." He said to me with this evil smirk and I fought every urge not to rip his face off and kick him in the balls.

"I'm not letting you drive me home." I stated firmly then turned back to the EMT. "He might be high! Have you checked him? You can't leave me in the hands of a psycho for God's sake!" I cried out desperately, searching her heart for an ounce of pity.

* * *

When the EMT said she was okay I finally exhaled a long breath in relief and thanked every god that I subconsciously prayed to. I could've screwed up so bad if I had injected her -- thank god I hadn't.

She wasn't as happy to see me as I was to see her but that didn't damper anyways. The EMT, being cool and awesome entrusted me in giving Gwen a ride home, and that's how she found herself in my crappy Hyundai listening to my punk CD's.

I couldn't help but admire her even more out of the corner of my eye. She sat low in the seat and one of her boots rested on the dashboard, the other outstretched underneath the heater. Her head tilted back towards the ceiling and her mouth moved to the lyrics Johnny Rotten wailed. She was the girl of my dreams.

"_Who killed Bambi"_

"You like the Sex Pistols?" I asked in hopes of finally starting a conversation with her.

"Shut up."

"You know you should show a little more gratitude. I saved your ass earlier you know. You could've died if I hadn't come along."

"If only I could be so lucky."

Her words stung and after I really couldn't think of another thing to say to her, so I kept my mouth shut and tried my best to lose myself into the masterpiece that was The Sex Pistols.

The silence was almost deafening it was so bad. Except when she told me where to turn and what street she lived on there was no sound from either of us and the car ride could not have been any more awkward. When I finally pulled up to her apartment she didn't even bother looking at me as she reached for the door handle. I couldn't help but snap.

"Why do you hate me so much?!" I said -- quiet calm actually, though my knuckles were white from where I was gripping the steering wheel.

Her eyes flashed back to me and I thought for sure I could read them -- I was wrong. Dark orbs shone blankly at me for a little longer than a standard blink. Then the strangest smile graced her lips as she leaned forward and nipped at my bottom lip with her teeth, biting until it would go swollen, then licking up the blood as if she were a kitten.

What the fuck was this girl on?

"Because you're an ass just like everyone else, Duncan." She murmured into my ear then pulled away and out of the car, pleasantly flipping me off before she unlocked the doors and let herself in.

"You are a bitch."

_I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will_

_- Jane Eyre, Jane Eyre_


	2. She killed Bambi

Chapter two! I don't care if Gwen really has two lizards, this story is an AU. Enjoy.

Selfish Breathing

By: Calamity Now

* * *

After slamming the door shut I pulled my headphones over my ears and listened to Are You Dead Yet by Children of Bodom and fell back onto my single bed, cushioned by the dozens of pillows and stuffed animals scattered on it. Without opening my eyes I reached under my main pillow and pulled out a bag of duck treats and gave it a good shake and pulled off my headphones, I could hear the music without actually having to wear them.

"Quack!" Arnold cried as he pushed open the door and waddled into the room.

"Hey baby." I cooed over him and stroked his soft white feathers as he pecked at the bottom of the bag of duck treats. "You want one don't you?" I asked and received another 'quack' in response. In spite of my crappy mood I couldn't help but smile as I dug through the bag and pulled out a single biscuit thing of seeds.

Arnold hopped off of my lap and stood in front of me, gazing up at the treat with wide determined eyes.

"Arnold, sit." I instructed and after a moment he settled down and quacked again, demanding his treat. Unable to deny him anything after he finally listened to me I threw the duck treat towards him and he caught it in his mouth like a good duck. "You are the smartest duck in the whole wide world." I said in one of those sickeningly sweet voices as I lifted him onto the bed so he could lay with me.

As he settled down in a nest of stuffed toys I pulled the headphones back over my ears and contemplated the day that had unfolded before me. That punk poser, Duncan. Unfortunately he plagued my mind like Arnold and food, and I couldn't help but picture his ugly face in my memory. I wondered who he was, and why exactly he was going out of his way to stalk me.

"Pathetic." I mouthed silently and brushed my hand over Arnold's head.

Boys were almost as much of a waste of time as caring, and anyways; I'm never dating again. It was written down in my rule book (which was really my journal) and it was branded into my mind. Anyways, Duncan was a dime in a dozen. What was special about a guy who's fucked a lot of girls? What was special about a guy that probably jerked off three times a day?

"Nothing." I said quietly, just to taste the word on my lips. Once they came from your lips then they were true; nothing could ever change what I had said.

* * *

In my car I sang along to the voice of Johnny Rotten as he performed 'I did you no wrong', repeating that line over and over again in my head trying to get her out of my head. It was like she infected me with her poison -- no that wasn't it. She was something I couldn't have, someone who didn't give a shit. That bugged me more than any poison ever could.

I could tell right there she would end up killing me; she killed Bambi.

I slowed down as I took a turn into a residential neighbourhood and drove by familiar houses to get to Ryder's home. As I drove the houses got crappier and crappier until I reached the end of the lane to the ugliest, crappiest house there with each step painted a different faded colour.

The smell of marijuana drifted through my open window as I turned off the ignition. I smirked to myself as I closed my car door and let myself in through the gate leading to the backyard. There I found Ryder with his pit bull Nancy Boy and his girlfriend Sophia.

They regarded me with shallow smiles and Ryder raised his can of beer in my direction.

"What's up man?" He asked as I took a seat on a cheap patio chair and reached into the cooler and pulled out a can of Canadian.

"Bitch is screwing me over." I told him and pulled the tab and took a long drink to ease my nerves. "No offence Sophia. How's your little private school bullshit going?"

She shrugged her shoulders and leaned back against her boyfriend before taking a puff of the joint and muttering. "It fuckin' sucks. Stupid prissy bitchez won't let me play their goddamn reindeer games." She said and toked again before passing it back to Ryder,

"Time to go Columbine on their asses, babe." Ryder said with a smile and kissed her sweetly on the top of her head. Then he held the joint up to me with a wide grin. "Time to unwind Duncan." He said and winked as I took the joint and inhaled the THC goodness.

After my second toke the joint had vanished into a roach I took the liberty of putting it out. "You seriously need a bong man. I fucking hate smoking joints. Goddamn things burn my fingers."

"Use the roach clip." Sophia replied sharply and took out her small baggy of roaches.

"Yours smells like ass. No thanks." I told her and tossed it back to her for her collection. "We should go play some reindeer games now. Like some Super Smash brothers." I said with a smile, and watched Sophia perk up at the suggestion.

"Yeah man! Ryder let's go! I'll kick your asses, even when I'm stoned." She said excitedly.

Despite Ryder's protests he found himself in his basement once more with a Nintendo 64 controller in his hands next to me and Sophia on the stinking leather couch. Sighing he chose Kirby, because it was the only character he could play. Though I wanted to play Pikachu, Sophia snarled at me never forgetting the one time I actually did choose him. She picked Yoshi then kicked my ass the entire time, even though we were on the same team.

"I think I'll be Pikachu." I told her and received the dirtiest look I had gotten that day.

"Not a chance. Go be your precious jiggly puff, fairy." She hissed.

"That hurt Soph, seriously."

* * *

Water was Arnold's greatest fear. That bird would rather waddle through five minutes of fire than go into the tub for a bath. Usually he was a clean duck, but Mason spilt pop and the duck just happened to be under the can of coke. After letting out a few shrill quacks and flying around the room we got him to calm down by offering a few duck treats.

Once we got a hold of him we realized how sticky he had become and was how we ended up needing to give him a bath.

"We need a trap." Mason said eventually as we both were staring at him intently, if we walked anywhere near the bathroom now he would go crazy and get feathers everywhere.

"Alright. What should we use?" I asked him as I scoured the living room, looking for something that would resemble a cage. "The cat carrier."

"No. He's too used to that."

"A pillow case?"

"Too dangerous."

Finally my eyes locked onto the perfect item, as I motioned for Mason's approval. He grinned and nodded when he saw it, hissing, 'Go! Go!' as I crept across the room and snatched the basket before Arnold could make sense of it all.

"Hiii Arnold." Mason cooed over the duck and revealed a duck treat in his palm.

Mason placed the duck treat on the ground in front of him on the ground and continued talking in a soft voice as Arnold bent over to eat the treat. Meeting eyes with Mason he nodded and I closed my eyes -- ashamed that I would have to be doing this to poor innocent Arnold.

"Quack!" Arnold cried cheerfully and advanced towards the treat, completely oblivious to me sneaking up on him, the laundry basket high in the air.

Just as Arnold glanced up at me he noticed the basket and realization dawned on him two seconds too late as he let out an ear-piercing shriek right as the basket came down on him.

"I'm sorry baby!" I cried out to him as we scooted the basket over to the bathroom. He grew more and more frantic as the flooring changed from hardwood to tile, and his quacks grew more and more shrill.

After we got the laundry basket entirely inside the room Mace slammed the door shut and we manoeuvred the laundry basket into the shower and turned it on. Water splashed down on Arnold as he shrieked in dismay, trying his best to somehow waddle out of the water.

"Shampoo me! Quick!" I yelled over my shoulder over the screaming and the small green bottle was placed into my hand. I turned off the water and squirt out a small amount shampoo then I ran my hands through his wet feathers and lathered it until there were bubbles foaming on his struggling body.

"Gwen, don't go near the beak! He's going to snap!" Mason cried as my hand drifted a little too close to his head. A second before he could take a chunk out of me I jerked my hand away and he clamped down on thin air.

It took about five minutes before Arnold was totally clean, and we turned off the faucets and allowed him out of the shower.

Poor Arnold waddled out with as much dignity that he could gather, sticking his soaked (yet very clean) tail feathers high in the air as he stepped onto the towel that Mace had laid out.

"Should we…leave him wet?" Mace asked slowly. "Or should we blow dry him?"

"He's suffered enough I think. Let's just let him dry himself." I said quietly as the duck shook the water off and nipped at the place where his wing joined with his body. "I'm going to go take a nap. Alright? Wake me up for South Park and tell mom to leave my food on the stove…"

"Kay."

* * *

A few hours later I was leaving Ryder's house, stoned and a teeny bit tipsy. I just left my car in his driveway because I lived just down the block, and ma wouldn't appreciate me driving home drunk I was sure.

After walking through the cooling autumn weather for about seven point five minutes I was at my much less crappy house with normal cement steps that were most definitely not painted.

The smell of spaghetti and garlic wafted through the air as I opened the door and my stomach growled, realizing that I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast -- and at that moment it was 5:49.

"Ma!" I called into the house as I kicked off my shoes and hung my hoodie on a hook.

"Hey, sunshine." My mom called from the kitchen and I heard the sound of plates clattering and cutlery being set. "Your grandmother is coming for dinner tonight…so please tell me-" She stopped talking as I entered the room and frowned. "You couldn't be good for me for just one day! I told you I don't mind you smoking pot, but not when we have company! Especially your dad's mom. She's just out to get me I swear -- like it's my fault we got the goddamn divorce. Thank god they think you're a little angel otherwise we wouldn't have this house…" and on and on and on she went.

Slowly I raised my hands up to my chest saying that I surrendered and she shut her mouth and took a deep breath. All that ranting had left her emotionally drained.

"Ma, it's fine. I'll take a shower." I assured her and started walking to the steps.

"And take out your piercings. Oh, make sure to wear your wig!" She called after me, if I didn't love her so much I would've flipped her off.

My wig was my mom's brilliant idea -- she figured my grandparents would hate me with my black and green hair, so she bought me a very good wig that looked exactly like my natural hair: wavy and dirty blonde.

In the bathroom I stripped off all of my clothes and removed all my piercings, except for the ones that you can't see and the one in my ear that was just starting to heal. Then I stepped into the shower and turned the water onto cold, hoping that the freezing water would take away any last bit of drunkenness in my system.

"Get a move on Sunshine! They'll be here in twenty minutes!"

* * *

"Gwen, wake up!"

The fact that my shoulder was moving without my consent was what woke me up, and slowly I looked up at my little brother with tired eyes.

"What do you want?" I asked him as I slowly sat up and searched for Arnold. who had apparently abandoned me in my slumber.

"South Park is on." Mason said quietly and took me by the hand, leading me out into the living room. "Mom left dinner for you on the stove by the way. She said sorry she couldn't speak to you today, but she has a date."

The turd wiggled his eyebrows up and down as he plopped down onto our sofa. I took a seat next to him and turned my attention to the eerie theme song.

"Did you see the date?" I asked when it changed to commercial.

"Yeah. She seems nice. Slim, blonde, freckles. I thought she was a model."

"Hopefully she is and rich." I grinned, the thought of moving out of our shit hole brought even Punk Poser Wannabe out of my mind.

Mason looked shocked though and placed a hand dramatically over his heart. "I've lived here my entire life! How could you say such things?"

"Easy." I replied. "Did you feed Arnold?"

"Yep. The damn duck wouldn't stop following me, almost tripped me." He mumbled as he leaned his head against my shoulder and shifted so he could get comfortable.

"It was your fault I'd imagine."

"Nah. It was the duck's."

"Why do you hate Arnold so much?"

"Because he's evil and he hates me."

"He's cute and hates you because you forget to feed him. Believe me, if you start feeding him on time not only will he love you but he will sleep with you too."

"Those would be some pretty ugly babies."

That one took me by surprise and I choked on the pop I had been drinking before smacking him on the shoulder to shut up. South Park was the only thing I wanted making me squirt Pepsi out my nose.

* * *

"Bello!" My grandmother cried as she held both my cheeks in her dry bony hands. "I have missed you so much! How your hair has grown! So beautiful!" She cooed and pinched my cheeks with surprising strength. If my house didn't depend on it I would've pinched her back long ago.

"Thank you, nonna." I mumbled and endured gross old people kisses on the lips. "My mom bought good conditioner." I told her and stood up straight and out of her reach before she could prod at my fake hair, just to see where my mom may have wronged.

After she was finished hugging and kissing me she bustled into the house and met eyes with a mother. Placing a sweet and evil smile on her face she opened her arms and cried, "Kathleen! You look magnifico!"

My mom did look beautiful. She had gained 20lbs since the last time my grandmother had seen us and she no longer looked skinny beyond belief. But of course nonna was just saying that to appear sweet to me so that I wouldn't block her out of my life like I had nonno, who called my mom a whore.

"You too Geraldina!" My mom cried and embraced my evil grandmother. "I'm so glad you could make it. I made pasta, why don't we all go into the dining room and dig in."

Honestly I admire my mom and how well she could fake a smile. If I didn't know my grandmother's true evil nature towards my mom then I would have thought of them as the closest of in-laws.

My mom sat across from me and next to my grandma so she could send me exaggerated looks of terror. Over the years we have come up with many little signs to signal 'HELP, HELP' or 'Make her shut the fuck up!' We both used them frequently when family was over, and sometimes dates.

Rubbing the earlobe meant that the conversation would have to change or bad things would happen.

A single cough meant 'Please leave the room, we have things to discuss.'

Touching the side of the nose would mean that one of us would need to distract the company while the other would slip out and release whatever pent up emotion there was.

A tug at the collar meant, 'shut up I'll deal with this'

We also mime things out simply that could be answered with yes or no. A yes would be a single flare of the nostrils. A no would be two flares.

Once we all were served my grandma ignored the food and focused all her attention onto me, scrutinizing something that had to of been on me.

"You got your ear pierced!" She said indicating to latest ring on my helix.

My mom put down her fork and looked at me in rage, eyes growing huge first then narrowing into slits as she saw my brand new piercing. Smiling sheepishly at her I turned back to nonna.

"Uhh…yeah, nonna. I thought it looked cool." I said uneasily and looked down at my plate of spaghetti, twirling my fork through the thin noodles.

"Cool?" She scoffed in disbelief, "You look like finocchio with it. Men should not wear earring. They think you are no good! Like you're omossesual"

I opened my mouth to reply, DJ was gay and I was a member of the GSA at our school. Thankfully my mom tugged at her collar and motioned for me to take a deep breath, which I did. Then she turned to my grandma with the sweetest of smiles.

"So, Geraldina. How is your new home working out for the two of you?" My mom cut in politely.

"Oh! It is just lovely." Nonna said with exaggerated happiness, "And Johnny came and helped us move. He is such a nice boy. It's a shame you two couldn't work it out." She said innocently and patted my mother's arm with fake affection.

Johnny's my dad, and also an untouchable subject with my mom.

My mom rubbed her earlobe frantically, but there was nothing I could do really. What could I say? My dad wasn't a good man and he was an ass for leaving my mom and me for some slut that worked at his office? Yeah right, she would take a wooden spoon to my ass.

A sharp pain jolted me from the memories of my grandma's wooden spoon and I met the eyes of my enraged mother. Sighing I opened my mouth and said the first that that came to mind.

"Nonna, what are you getting me for Christmas?"

….

There was silence between us all for a second as my mom gaped at me and my grandma tried to figure out if I was serious or not.

"Christmas?" She cried in disbelief, "Bello, it is months away!" She said with a laugh then turned to my mother, smile absolutely gone as she said. "I told you he is too greedy! You are not taking him to church enough. We should all go together, this Sunday. You join me Duncan." Her smile was genuine this time as she reached out a bony hand and placed it over mine, giving a gentle squeeze.

"Geraldina. Duncan and I feel that our faith is best served at home."

I sent a silent thanks back to my mom, she nodded in response. Faith and religion was one thing not to argue about with my grandmother. When my mom told her she didn't want to be married in a church my grandma went psycho on my mom's ass, and they fought for an hour until finally my mom gave in.

"No. You are saying that you do not believe!" She yelled and stood up, reaching her full 5 feet. "You are teaching my grandson to be a sinner! Just like you!"

Now my mom stood up, beating my grandma by a good four inches.

"I do not need to hear this in my house!"

"Your house?!"

That's when I stood up, grabbed my plate and took it upstairs into my room. Pulling my headphones up over my ears and blasting 'Are You Dead Yet?' by Children of Bodom.

* * *

Mace and me waited up until midnight until my mom came home, the gorgeous blonde followed in after her, smiling nervously at the both of us. She introduced herself as Sarah and told us a little bit about her work in the music industry. Mason listened with wide eager eyes as she told him about the gorgeous guitars in the recording studio she worked in. It was nothing special; I have seen a thousand different girlfriends come in.

"Gwen!" My mom said worriedly, voice cutting through my thoughts. "Have you checked your insulin level lately? How're you doing, sweetheart? Have you been eating?"

I had to bite my cheek not to roll my eyes as I told her I was fine -- just happening to "forget" about the little incident that had happened earlier with me, Punk Poser Wannabe, and the EMT.

"I'm fine mom." I told her and stood up. "I'm going to bed now. Good night mom, Mace, Sarah." I nodded to each before retreating to my room. Arnold was angry at me still for putting him in the water because he was sleeping in the corner, rather than in the nest on his bed. "I love you," I told him as I switched off my bedroom light and flicked on my lamp.

After changing into my pajama pants I snuggled under my blankets and pulled on my headphones, listening to 'Let The Bodies Hit The Floor' by Dope. Then I pulled up my sketchbook and flipped through my most recent work of art; my sketch of Mace when he was a baby. I had decided when I got older I would get a tattoo of it on my shoulder. He was the most important person in my life.

I only got in a little bit before there was a knock on my door and Mason let himself in, stretching as he closed the door and side stepping the still angry Arnold.

"Sarah left and Mom's taking a shower. I'm very bored right now." He said as he made himself comfortable on the bean bag in the corner. "Why don't you entertain me?"

"Why don't you stick something in the DVD player?" I asked as I nodded to the tiny TV and DVD player on top of my desk. Mason merely glanced at it before sighing and shrugged his shoulders.

"I wanna talk though."

"I'm busy."

"But I'm your brother. We're blood! Aren't I more important that paper? I thought blood was thicker than water."

"I'm not drinking any water."

"You know what I mean! Pay attention to me. Seriously. We should pull a massive prank again."

"Tomorrow." I replied without glancing upwards.

Mason gave a long exasperated sigh and flung himself across the bed, successfully moving the bed and jerking my arm upwards. Baby Mason's face now had somewhat of a Harry Potter lightning bolt on his nose.

I glared up at him but received only a sheepish smile in return as he shrugged his shoulders and sat up straight.

"sorry," was all he had to say.

Idiot.


End file.
